Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Spent all day traipsing around Manhattan today in meetings. Not complaining - I got to ride in a car and pretend that I'm a person of status. A hotshit powerhouse. Change the world with the decision to swath a room in gold lame and urns of zinnias!
Just allow me this, please.
At least my appointments got me out of the house. Yesterday I sat staring at the wall, considering what to eat for lunch in the most uninteresting way. Do a handstand. Fall. Walk to the other side of the apartment. Consider the dog hair-dust bunnies. Then a tomato sandwich. More staring.
As a child I had a severe boredom troubles. Threw a lot of tantrums. Wailing about how bored I was.
What can I say, I like to be entertained. Once when a promise of a trip to the mall was cancelled on a Saturday afternoon for really no good reason at all, I remember grabbing a small paring knife in the kitchen and threatened to slit my wrists. I remember this so vividly -- my parents sort of sashaying their way through the kitchen with coffee cups, glancing over their shoulders at my meltdown in the corner and then snickering to each other, sharing a moment of humor unique to parents. My rage further fueled, I retreated to my room to devise a more effective tantrum.
It pains me suddenly to recall the colorful display I saved for the occasional lost card game.
It's raining; lightly but steadily right now; 72 degrees; 7:16 at 147 Van Dyke Street. Am I misusing semi-colons?
I'm back at the studio and my plants are all glistening in their relief on the sidewalk outside. I fixed that quick bouquet with some sweet potato vine, carrot flower, marigolds, asparagus ferns, kale...the drill. Shot it in the rain, not caring if my camera got wet, feeling thankful that this planet, in all it's distress can get it together to give us some gentle relief. And thankful that I don't have to haul a 5-gallon bucket of water (twice!) down 2 flights of stairs to water my garden at home tonight.
To be fair to myself, I did get up and make that there yesterday. The simplest rustic tart from David Tanis' book Heart of the Artichoke adapted for blueberries - a bit early for them, but I'll explain where I got the berries tomorrow.. Get that book if you haven't already, it's one of my favorite things to pull out and read over breakfast or if you find yourself unmotivated with a refrigerator full of someone else's old produce...